Invega
by CacklingBlasphemy
Summary: From Brooklyn to Gotham, the meaning of 'holy crap' is suddenly lacking when two friends find themselves in a previously fictional place. Batman and the Joker? And the Penguin too? Chaos is sure to follow, along with fangirlism. Pairings? Who knows!
1. Stelazine

Fwa! Okay, wonderful, _splendid_. It's been _ages_ since I posted anything online, which means I'm horrifically anxious, and down a few notches. From Yugioh to Batman, how much more of a nerd can I _get_? Well, least it's not a crossover, right? Pffft, I don't own anything but Roxy and Emma, and if I did… well. Batman wouldn't be so happy.

**xx**

"This is totally shway."

Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from sputtering an insult, I threw a dirty look toward Emma, cursing myself for ever uncovering the Batman Beyond series from storage. Goddamn lingo.

I turned my stiff neck to glower at her fully, more annoyed at the dimwitted cops that kept us sitting in here without giving a good reason why. Fingerprints, useless questions, a personal-space invading search for weapons. Good god, they stuck us in an interrogation room! I suppose us nerdy girls just _scream _hoodlum! Emma shifted her head grinning back tauntingly at me, mirth dancing in her large bug-like baby blues. Lazily she rolled her shoulder upward into a sloppy shrug, batting her eyelashes with mock innocents.

"This isn't funny." I growled back moodily, eyeing her now frizzy brown 80's hair do with dislike. A catty grin flew across her lips and she leaned closer, peering up at me with half-lidded eyes, her penguin earrings dangling out from the mass of what she called hair.

"Why so serious?" She drawled pulling back causing my lips to twitch upward in amusement despite myself. As if content, she grinned merrily to herself and sat in the horrid cold metal chair cross legged. Groaning, I eyed the table. Maybe I could just end it all now.

You know that whole 'being in the wrong place at the wrong time' saying? Well, it really sucks when it backhands you across the face like an angry mother. Especially when cops are involved, and painful metal cuffs. Plus, they really shove you around. It's a real _what the frig_ moment.

I guess it all started with Emma. With her brown 80's hair do and Penguin hoody, clinging to my arm like a child who wants to visit the zoo. After seeing the Dark Knight so many times, one starts to realize maybe it's time for rehab. Emma suggested going to see the Dark Knight again for therapy, despite just coming out of the theater, and I, counting the dimes at the bottom of my bag staring at the dollar menu, decided it was a bad idea.

"Lieutenant!"

Drifting from the sad realization of being utterly poor due to an obsession, I tilted my head toward the squealing of thing one and two, as Emma mocked them under her breath. They had been like those British guards at the door for more than twenty minutes now. _And_ they had my cellphone, so I couldn't really explain to my house plants why I wasn't home. They'll wilt without my love! My gaze shifted toward who they were addressing—a man who had sauntered into the room like a goddamn king! Or, rather, he looked how I felt. Tired and annoyed. Compared to the other two, one who was Mr. Piggy and Mr. Skinny, he was, well alright. A nice kind face, you know? And you really don't see that.

He nodded to whatever his henchmen were saying, and paused, raising an eyebrow and glancing toward us. I raised mine right back at him. C'mon, buddy, let us go. We're nerds, not criminals. Though the movie prices _should_ be. Mister Lieutenant murmured something toward his two goons and they nodded, turning on their heels, disappearing from sight.

"God, I'm hungry." Emma sighed suddenly, drawing my attention to her. She puffed her lower lip out into a pout, staring dejectedly into space. I opened my mouth to tell her we'd be stuffed in a fast food joint in no time when an amused voice cut me off.

"Then I'll be sure to make this quick."

Yelping in alarm, I glanced wide-eyed toward the lieutenant who was now seating across from us. A sense of deja vu swept over me as he grinned apologetically. I hadn't expected him to have walked so soundlessly. And why did he seem so damn familiar? He was handsome for his age—which, was what, mid thirties? Dark hair, mustache, glasses.

"We didn't do anything." Emma spoke up, the cuffs clanking against the table as she rested her arms on it.

"Emma and I were walking back home when your goons popped up and began shouting things." I added with a nod causing his grin to turn amused.

"Yes, well, they tend to do that." He replied softly, rummaging through a pocket. Pulling out a small set of keys, he motioned for my hands. "Sorry if you two were uncomfortable. I'll ask a few questions, and then you can go eat. Deal?" Grinning, deciding I liked this guy, I offered my hands. With a _click_ I was free and pulled back my wrists, rubbing them as Emma eagerly offered hers. With a click and a clank, she, too, was free. Oh sweet glorious freedom.

"Shway." She grinned and I scoffed, turning to look at her.

"Don't be such a _twip_," I mocked, straightening my back. The lieutenant opened his mouth and I waved my hand, cutting him off. "It's from a show." I explained briefly causing Emma to gasp, as if offended.

"Not just _any _show, but Ba—" She began sounding outraged, her nose wrinkling with displeasure. Grinning lazily, I rested my elbow on the table, turning to stare at her fully.

"You want food?" I questioned raising my eyebrows with mock curiosity. She closed her mouth and leaned back.

"You wanna not insult our love?" She shot back and I growled.

"Fine."

"Yeah thought so." We locked in a stare.

Soft laughter broke our so-called staring contest and I glanced back toward the lieutenant. Shaking his head, he laced his fingers together, grinning back at us.

"Though your banter is rather uplifting, it is getting rather late, and I _do_ need to ask a few questions, if you two don't mind..."

"Yeah sure, buddy, whatever you want." I chimed cheerfully, eager to get out of here.

"Ah... Bronx?" He questioned and I shook my head, wondering if he was new to the city.

"Naw, Brooklyn." I corrected causing Emma to snap her fingers uttering a soft, 'oh snap!'

"Oh, well, I was close, wasn't I?" He grinned briefly before folding his hands again. "So, start from the beginning, what were you two doing tonight?"

"Well, we came out of the Dark Knight—um... I think... yeah it was 11:10, I had looked at my cellphone..." I began, trailing off as he gave me a puzzled look.

"Dark Knight?" He repeated slowly. I raised my eyebrows at him, wondering if he lived under a rock. "Is that a movie?" Who didn't know of the Dark Knight?

Confused, I glanced at Emma, but she was already squirming in her seat excitedly, glee etched across her features. She locked onto the lieutenant like a dog spotting a rabbit, a large grin spreading across her face.

"It's a slamming movie!" She breathed, leaning across the table. She was like jock after virginity, only in this case, Dark Knight Virgins. "I can't believe you haven't heard of it!" He grinned sheepish.

"Well I work a lot..." he mumbled causing me to grin. This guy was so cute!

"Aww, well, if you wanna you can catch a ride here with Roxy and we could see it together! My treat!" She threw in eagerly causing him to laugh. I tossed her a look and she shrugged. Oh, like I had money left for that!

"Thanks, I'll think about it." He paused, turning serious once more. "Well, for starters, I'd like to know where you two were at 9:30."

"We were in a movie theater." I answered carefully, narrowing my eyes in thought. "Yeah, we walked in at 9." Emma nodded in agreement, digging through her pocket, pulling out a ticket stub.

"See?" She slid it across the table to him.

"Can anyone verify you staying there?" He questioned softly, gazing at the ticket thoughtfully.

"Well, sure! Remember that, um, the popcorn boy?" Emma turned her attention to me and I blinked. What popcorn guy? "He was making eyes at you, he'd notice if you left."

"Honestly—wait, what?" I paused as she grinned widely. Huffing, I turned back to the yet again amused lieutenant. "Never mind. Look at Emma here; I'm sure someone would remember _her_ walking out. Plus, it was the Dark Knight; I'd never walk out of that movie."

"You got out around 11-ish, you said? What theater was it?"

"Linden Boulevard Multiplex Cinemas." I replied with a shrug.

"See, we were on 149th Ave..."

"Linden Boulevard?" He cut in, furring his brow as confusion exploded across his face. I frowned. "Where...?"

"In Brooklyn." Emma threw out with an eye roll, grinning at him.

"We're in Gotham."

I stared blankly at the officer across from me, wondering if I should laugh or not. He peered back at me with his innocent big eyes behind his adorable little glasses, his head tilted slightly toward the side as if waiting for one of us to reply. His gaze flickered between us, confusion fluttering across his expression as he knotted his brow together.

...Gotham?

As in _DC_-Gotham?

Rolling my lower lip into my mouth, I chewed on it absently, narrowing my eyes with thought. Bewilderment tangled through me, tugging at my thoughts obnoxiously. I was pretty sure there was some city in a state called Gotham, but New York... Wasn't that Gotham-dubbed?

He didn't have any kind of New York accent. Wasn't Gotham a city in, like…Indiana? Or was it Wisconsin? This guy couldn't be serious, if he was talking about the Gotham I think he was. What the hell did he mean by _Gotham_? His accent, sure, was different; we weren't in Brooklyn anymore, that much was obvious.

I stared.

He stared back.

Glasses. Mustache. _Adorable_. Lieutenant.

Lieutenant. Lieutenant, lieutenant, lieutenant.

"Oh my god, we're Mary Sues!" Emma choked out with a screech, which startled me from my darkening thoughts. Jerking my head in her direction, placing a hand over my sputtering heart beat, I gawked at her as she threaded her fingers through her horrid hair, grasping the strands and pulling.

"…Wha?" The poor Lt began, cocking his head to the side as he blinked rapidly. I cut him off by slamming my hand down on the table, ignoring the searing pain of flesh hitting metal.

"There is no way in hell we're Mary Sues. Or in Gotham for that matter." I snapped, glowering at her for falling for something like that. No. No, no, no. This guy was messing with us, he had to be. _Had_ to.

"Yeah okay! You're like a Time-Turner and I'm like Hermione freakin' Granger! Hello Tom Riddle!" She huffed back turning her frantic eyes to me, throwing her arms up in the air as if in defeat.

"...Actually," the Lt coughed, his voice suddenly meek. "You, ah... you _are_ in Gotham—"

"Feh," I cut in with an aggressive flick of my wrist, waving his comment away. "Do you _see_ a Hogwarts floating around here?" Emma rolled her eyes at me and nodded, folding her arms as she sulked back into her chair.

"Yeah, and it goes by the name of Arkham." She growled lowly causing me to snort back a bitter laugh. Oh magical Arkham. "If we aren't Sues, then we're Ocs. How much of a difference is that?"

I hesitated briefly, opening and closing my mouth a few times, unsure whether or not to defend Oc-ism or myself. Her blue eyes darkened slightly, locking with mine.

"Please, we're... we're..." I began uneasily, pulling my lip into my mouth.

"Ocs in Gotham!" She fired back. "Oh god, we'll be, like… paired up!"

I gasped, shrinking back at the thought.

"Excuse me..." the Lt tried again. "But what are... Ocs? Mary Sues?"

No, he wasn't real yet, thus, I couldn't answer him. He was merely a figment of my deformed imagination. _Jim_. He was freakin' Jim Gordon. Oh god. And I was secretly his fangirl! Which nobody but Emma and my laptop, with all the unread fanfictions, knew.

"Ugh. No. No we won't. That's like… friggin' impossible." I whispered, my voice cracking on me. We weren't in Gotham. People just don't _land_ in comic book cities. That boat of dreams sailed when I was seven.

"Yeah, you _think_? Hello, we're in _Gotham_!" The 80's wanna be huffed, waving her hand about airily causing the many bracelets on her arm to clank together. I ran my tongue over my lip, half wondering if we were tripping.

"Maybe." Acid in the popcorn. Yup. This is one big hallucination.

"Don't _maybe_ me." She snipped warningly, puffing her lip out into a pout, wagging a finger at me. As if I was a misbehaving puppy. I made a grab for her hand and she grinned, pulling it back before I could. "We are. And if we're not hooked up with lil' old BW, then to the J-Man."

I blanched at the suggestion. Bruce Wayne. I couldn't look at him without thinking of Patrick Bateman running around naked covered in blood with a chainsaw screaming. Christian Bale, you ruined Dark Knight for me with that generic face of yours!

"Oh please! Be realistic, would you? Those two couldn't hold a real relationship, even if they _wanted_ to, and we both know Harley doesn't count." I replied crossly, tilting my chin upward into a slant, _daring_ her to challenge me.

"The hell she doesn't. And we'll be paired up anyhow. And to _anyone_." Her head inclined slightly toward Jim and I felt heat rushing to my cheeks.

"Excuse me—"

"Dips on the Penguin." A grin curved upward onto Emma's lips, all traces of previous hysteria missing from her face, leaving only smug content.

"Lord…" I had an urge to just puke all over her. Six months, and still she held strong to her steady relationship with Mr. Fictional.

"I'm a loon!" Emma suddenly piped, punching the air with her fist. I scoffed, looking toward a baffled Jim Gordon.

"No. No she isn't." I deadpanned, pausing as I glanced back to my best friend and her wild 80's _do_. ...And her penguin clothing. "Really." I assured him, shifting my gaze back to him.

Maybe he was real.

"Yes. Yes I am! Take me to Arkham, I want the Penguin!" She cried passionate, throwing her arms around herself.

Wrinkling my nose, I shifted my gaze, looking for something heavy to hit her with. Focus, Emma, focus! We're in goddamn Gotham. Now isn't the time to be gushing over anyone!

"Uh… who?"

"What! Whaddya mean who? He's the best criminal around!" She barked, glowering at Jim, who leaned back in surprise. He glanced in my direction, and I refused to return the notion.

"Second best." I muttered distractedly, suddenly finding amazing artwork within the metal of the table. By god.

"Second best…?" She questioned quietly, and I nodded, giving her a pointed look.

"Yeah, Joker comes in first." I answered with a lazy shrug. She scoffed, a mild look of offense forming across her face.

"But the Penguin squawks!" She defended, crossing her arms again. I rolled my eyes.

"So? Joker still beats him."

"Joker? Penguin?" Jim's voice slid through and I shot him a puzzled glance. He should at _least_ know the Joker... right? No... No, they called him _Lieutenant_. Confused, I tilted my head at him. Just where in the time-line were we? He arched an eyebrow at me and I ducked my head. Oh god, why was he so cute?

"Pffft, all the Joker has going for him is the same old same old and his supposed heterosexual obsessive love for the Batman."

I wasn't sure why, but at the end of her words the both of us froze, as if we had forgotten all about the _dark knight_. Her eyes locked with mine, spilling across my face as her jaw dropped. I gawked back at her, realization hitting me hard across the face. Air escaped me momentarily.

Batman. ..._Batman_. It sounded just so... _stupid_ at the moment. That a billionaire was running around at night. I slumped back into my seat, stunned. Batman. He was real. _Real_.

The realization exploded fully, hurtling a dizzy spell into me, as my body begged to collapse into it self. I suddenly felt as though I hadn't slept in days. Closing my eyes briefly, I desperately tried to bring air out of my lungs—or was it to bring air _into_ my lungs? My thoughts jumbled together, crashing into one another painfully as sickening dread poured through me. Oh god, oh god... My pulse leapt and flew about, hitting everything in sight as my heart stammered painfully against my airless lungs. It was almost like a swarm of angry bees were circling my head. Nothing made sense. This couldn't be happening! It was impossible. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe.

"Roxy!"

It was almost like a wave of water hitting me, smothering the flames that had been frantically eating me alive. I opened my eyes, refocusing on the worried expression of the oh so handsome Jim Gordon across from me, his concerned eyes pinning me back to reality causing me to sway dangerously in my seat. It was as if I suddenly forgot to hold myself upright. My shaking fingertips grasped the sides of the cold metal chair desperately for support—grasping desperately for _something_ to keep me clinging to a reality that wasn't this.

"You… you need to breathe," a voice besides me whispered softly.

My wide eyes flickered toward him, noticing his warm hand on my shoulder as he hovered over me, and I found myself aware of my own hyperventilating. Mother of... How'd he get there…?

"Are you alright? Do you need a glass of water...?" Gordon softly murmured as I slumped back against the chair, feeling nausea as I took in deep breaths. Vaguely aware of shaking my own head, I felt him move away and leaving me to feel oddly relieved.

"Finally freaking over being a Mary Sue, huh?" Emma quipped cheerfully and with a jerk, I realized she had been standing on the other side of me. My gaze shifted upward in her direction, and I threw a weak glower that she grinned at.

"Mary Sue?" Gordon inquired as I opened and closed my mouth in silent outrage toward Emma. Why the hell wasn't she freaking out? Goddamn!

"Why..." I breathed out, wincing at my wavering voice as I struggled to sit up right. "Aren't _you_ freaking out?" She rolled her eyes and plopped back into her seat, almost lazily.

"Well how can I when _you're_ having a panic attack?" She asked crossing her arms as if offended. "Someone has to be calm for you. Need an inhaler?"

"Wha—" I began, confused, as I placed a hand over my steadily slowing heart beat. She leaned in closer cutting me off, her blue orbs dancing with dark intent.

"How about mouth to mouth?" She purred lowly, her gaze shifting in Gordon's direction. Sputtering, I choked on my own air.

"We're in _Gotham_!" I screeched back in between my coughing fit causing her to burst into a silent fit of giggles. Managing to calm myself down, pointedly refusing to look in said lieutenant's direction, I straightened myself out, pushing my features into seriousness. "Gotham, Em. We don't _belong_ here."

Our gazes locked and my realization shifted over on to her. Blinking blankly, she slowly leaned back, stunned. Her frizzy hair seemed to be more frazzled then before, enhancing her bewildered expression to an almost comical point.

"Please, I want to help the both of you, but I need answers..."

Emma tore her gaze from mine settling on the man behind me. Tired, hungry and emotionally drained, I decided it was best to blame it all on Christian Bale.

"Do you still think we're criminals?" She wondered softly causing the muscles in my mouth to twitch upward. Gordon snorted back a laugh.

"Not really. I had a feeling when I walked in you two weren't either, but, ah..." he trailed off. "What are Mary Sues? Why do you keep repeating it?" His tone was purely curious, and I burst into laughter at the sheer idiocy of it _all_. It's freakin' Jim Gordon!

"Uh... well..." Emma began tilting her head to the side with thought, furrowing her brow. "Kind of like someone who is, like...um, one of the main characters in the story and is kind of clichéd. Perfect, you know? Being unrealistic and stuff..." She paused, and tossed me a pointed look. "Like when characters are suddenly pulled into _fictional worlds_. Right, Roxy?"

"Don't mock Fiona, she's far from Mary—"

"What do you mean by _fictional_ and _characters in a story_?" Gordon cut in, taking his seat across from us again.

His words made me freeze up again, and I, vaguely, wondered if this was going to be a horrible talent of his. Emma gawked back at me in horror, looking like a cat about to be thrown into a pool.

"Oh my god, what will we do?" She whispered in a hiss like voice, panic flashing across her expression. I threw my hands up angrily.

"Do I look like the wikipedia?" I answered in the same lowered tone. "Do you think I _know_? That I'm just a giant source of gathering information?"

Oh so _now_ she panics! Wrinkling her nose in displeasure she sent Gordon a look before glancing back at me, like I was suppose to know what her eye-dance meant! The nerve of it all.

"Here's the plan, we'll seduce the Penguin." She nodded with a mock confirmative.

"Oh, great, wonderful, excellent plan, we'll chill out in the Narrows until he graces us with his criminal appearance and sweeps you off your little feet."

"You aren't coming up with anything! We need a place to stay!"

"And waiting around in the cold will do us wonders! I'm sure you'll be an amazing sex god Mary Sue by the time your deformed—"

"—He isn't deformed, he's a—"

"—Squawking jerk of a—"

"—_Gentleman_, he's a gentleman—"

"—Nutcase who waddles like a—"

"—You have no right to call him—"

"Um, excuse me...?" Gordon's meek voice filtered through causing us, to yet again, tear our gazes from one another, and throw him a demanding look.

"What!" I snapped the same time Emma did. He leaned back startled, and held his hands up in defense.

"I, ah, I could hear you two... just so you know. For the next time, I think you guys should best stick with, ah... passing notes." He mumbled sheepishly, shifting his position in the chair, his expression turning earnest. I almost cringed at the mental image of pens and arguments flying. "So far, you aren't helping me by bickering, and I think, by the sound of it, you two really need my help. So, please... _let_ me help you. I just need to know what's going on."

Emma turned to look at me, questioningly, hesitation brimming in her worried eyes. Shifting uncomfortable, she brought the pad of her thumb to her lip, chewing on it.

"We... we can trust him. It's Jim freakin' Gordon, if there is anyone we can trust..." I trailed off awkwardly, pulling at my right earlobe nervously.

"We can't just go around _sputtering_ things," she whispered, her thumb lowering from her lip slightly. "Even if we _can_ trust him, we don't know... what version this is, and what information would disturb the natural flow..."

"I can't _follow_ what you two are trying to imply. If you don't mind, cut straight to the point." Gordon sighed, sounding only slightly annoyed. My fangirlism kicked up and I resisted the urge of throwing myself across the metal table to cling and beg him to not be annoyed at our _silly antics_. I don't think he'd like that very much.

"Um, okay..." Emma shifted awkwardly and glanced at me quickly. "Recently, anything... _exciting_ happen? Anything involving... uh... Batman?"

"Does the name Harvey Dent mean anything to you?" I offered lamely with a wave of my hand, unsure of just what to ask.

"Harvey...? Well, not _really_. I think he's running against Phillips to be the new district attorney." Gordon answered slowly, his expression turning thoughtful briefly as I wondered who the hell Phillips was. "As for the masked vigilant known as the Batman," Emma and I exchanged amused grins at this. "He recently helped bring—"

"Is there a Rachel Dawes?" Emma suddenly cut in, leaning across the table causing her bracelets to clank against the metal. Gordon opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking rather surprised, while I sulked in my chair. _I_ wanted to ask.

"Well," Gordon fumbled almost adorably, adjusting his glasses. "Yes, she's—"

"Fuck, it's the movie version!" Emma swore, huffing as she slapped the table with her hand, looking all the while displeased.

"Movie... what?"

"Yeah, she only appears in the movies, right? I don't remember her in the comics..." I furrowed my brow with thought, pulling my lower lip into my mouth. Emma propped herself up on one elbow, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand, rolling her eyes.

"...Comics?" Bewildered, Gordon tilted his head, staring at us.

"Oh _great_!" Sighing theatrically Emma threw her arms up and puffed her lower lip out, looking thoroughly dejected. Smacking my lips together loudly, I jerked my thumb in Gordon's direction, turning to face her completely.

"We can trust him." I reminded her and she rolled her eyes, irritation fluttering across her expression.

"I know that, smelly!" She snipped moodily.

"Hey!" I half wondered if it was true.

"I was _complaining_ about being stuck with the _adorably psychotic_ Joker. 'Cause that's what I really want." She clarified, sarcasm slapping her tones lightly. I snorted in response, deciding to not even grace her with my opinion.

"Please!" Gordon cut in annoyed. I shifted my attention back toward him. "I just want to know what's going _on_."

"Okay, then you can tell him that his entire existence is nothing more then something to read about out of a comic book." Emma brushed off casually and I turned to look at her in horror as she kicked her legs back and forth in a childish manner. Oh my god. Talk about putting it nicely! I slapped my forehead, and buried my face into my hands. He'll think we're crazy! She really _is_ trying to get us into Arkham!

"_What_?"

"Never mind, I did that for you." She chirped cheerily. "Chin up, Roxy! Truth is out, behold my fellow mortals—"

"I... what?"

"Oh, we have proof! Your wife's name is Barbara, and you have a son—" She continued and I groaned, letting my head slam onto the cold metal table, happily embracing the headache that screeched through my now pounding head. _Anything_ to get away from what just happened.

"—You only sound stalkerish." I muttered into the table, placing my hands over my head, willing everything to go away. This is just side affects of that popcorn, it totally had acid in it. Yup. Totally. Jim Gordon isn't across from me, I'm not in Gotham.

"Then you tell him!" Emma snapped.

"I'm sorry, but this... is a little hard to believe."

"Yeah, you're tellin' us. Imagine winding up somewhere you thought fictional? Real sanity killer, huh?"

"We do have proof." I lifted my head, resting my chin on the table, side glancing the cheerfully annoyed Emma. "Em, your cellphone. Don't you have a Dark Knight trailer on it?" Realization lit in her blue eyes and died just as quickly. Sternly, she tilted her chin upward into a slant, working on her jaw.

"You Know Who's identity—" she began with a growl and I shook my head, sitting up slowly, now thinking myself utterly stupid for hitting my head the way I had. Goddamn. I hate headaches.

"No, no, show it up to the whole 'knives and lint' part."

"Yeah, okay. Because I totally didn't have my cellphone taken away."

"I'll... I'll get it."

Emma and I glanced up at Gordon who had stood silently, looking rather awkward and confused.

"Wait," I called causing him to hesitate at the metal door, his head tilting to glance over his shoulder with respectful curiosity. I propped my elbows on the metal table. "Why are we here in the first place? I mean, what are we… _charged_… with?"

"You know I was just thinking that!" Emma threw out, snapping her fingers, turning to look at the lieutenant as well. A small smile curved upward onto his lips and he adjusted his glasses.

"With the possibility of knowing something you shouldn't." He answered quietly. "Detective Billin and Young spotted the two of you, as they said, appearing on a dark street, mentioning Batman…" He paused, glanced between the two of us, and grinned slyly. "They thought you were, ah, in cahoots with the Batman and knew his identity."

With that, he slid outside of the room leaving me feeling suddenly anxious.


	2. Adderall XR

I can't stand the summary, so I was complaining, which is what I do, and my BFF MOLLY -decays-, suggested: 'Two people somehow wind up in fucking Gotham after watching TDK and get in a shit load of trouble. One sweeps Jim Gordon off his flappin' heels and the other...is just shoved with the Penguin. They do epic shit. The end.' Which cracked me up.

Well, 'course the Joker will be in soon. Probably next chapter—or _maybe_ in this one, it's a surprise! And what's a fanfiction without his gleeful laughter? Oh lord. I really wanna pair him up with Batman, but I can't see that guy being in any kind of relationship. Suggestions, anyone?

As for the pairings—I have _no_ idea where it's going. Roxy and Emma were made out of a whim, for the sake of the story, and I hardly know them. It was 3 AM, and I had a wine bottle filled with caffeine-free soda, and decided, hell, let's make a Batman fanfiction! And then proceeded to puke all over the keyboard. Because that's what drunks do. And for the ages. Oh god, I don't know! I dunno if Roxy will end up with Jimbo. Can you imagine that guy cheating? I mean the movie-version one. Jim from the comics is such a SLUT. I think it'll be one-sided love. HAHA, NO HAPPINESS FOR ROXY! And lots of wild sex for the Penguin and Emma. Ahem.

THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS. :'D Good god, my Giraffe friend, I hacked up on my apple juice—Don't judge me!—and burst into laughter, spraying my computer with filth. Love your name, by the way. No Penguin, huh? Well, this fic might as well just be a crack-fic. And again, thank you all for reviewing.

**xx**

A horribly baffled lieutenant and fifteen minutes later found us in a knock-off of a fifty's diner, Frank Sinatra's muffled voice screeching out of a cracked jukebox as the smell of burnt toast clung to the air like fog. Wetting my lips, I fingered the plastic sticky red menu. _Harpy's Diner_ glared back at me in large neon green lettering. Emma was rather ecstatic, playing with a rip in the bright red cushioned booth seat. The lieutenant—Gordon—was gawking still. After seeing part of a trailer to a movie that stated that _he_ was fictional, Emma suggested we talk about it over food. Thus here we are.

"…Gary Oldman, huh…?" Gordon murmured slowly, his soft voice dragging my attention in his direction and away from the threatening messages carved into the table. Almost bashfully he adjusted his glasses, his gaze drifting downward. "I must admit that is somewhat flattering…"

"Yeah, it was like, why so _serious_, lieutenant?" Emma drawled slowly, stretching out the _serious_ part, in which I had unwisely taken a sip of the water and ended up choking on it, pushing back the urge to cackle inappropriately.

Unfortunately the good lieutenant couldn't fully appreciate the joke and blinked, his head cocking to the side much like a dog. His, blue I suddenly noticed, eyes shifted back and forth between us, growing slightly concerned as I hacked up my own air. Emma scoffed, patting me roughly on the back.

"Gary Oldman once played a man named Sirius," I offered weakly, my eyes still teary from both inward laughter and choking. Boundary

"S-I-R-I-U-S." Emma clarified with a wag of the finger to each letter. Understanding washed across Gordon's expression almost elegantly, amusement flickering across his blue orbs. "It would have been funny if it was referenced in the movie."

"That line, 'why so serious', you keep repeating it…" Gordon spoke up after a moment had passed, his attention seemingly focused on the menu. "What_ever_ knowledge you have, I… I don't want to know, it wouldn't be right to know." He glanced upward at us, folding his hands over then menu. "At the moment, there has been… a series of…" he trailed off. "Well, its police business, but he leaves a card. I'm assuming he goes by the name of Joker, by the way you two speak of him."

"Well, at least you have his card in case you needed to call him!" Emma cried with a nod and I snorted loudly, trying to shove down laughter as Gordon arched an eyebrow.

"Don't…" he trailed off, shifting in his seat. "Listen." He sighed, and leaned closer. "Obviously you two know the identity of the Batman," he lowered his voice significantly, causing the two of us to lean in just to hear him. "As an officer, I'm _supposed_ to question you. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to ask anything. Nothing about any future events. Nothing about who Batman is."

"Who is followed by the function of what," Emma chirped loudly, breaking the rather suspenseful moment as she leaned back, leaning against the horrid booth casually. "And what he is, is a man in a mask!" I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth and snuggled back into the stale smelling cushions.

"Yes, let's break out the Guy Fawkes mask and start a revolution!"

"This entire situation is absurd…" a small smile curved upward on his lips. "But so are a lot of other things in my life right now. I seem to just be collecting secrets, lately."

"Absurd!" Emma snorted, flopping the menu up so that her face was completely out of view and began humming a familiar tune. "Let's have bizarre celebrations… Let's forget who forget what forget where…"

"'right, dolls, what can I start yeh off wiv?" A breathy feminine voice wheezed out and I, startled, glanced up at the stick-skinny made-up waitress that looked like she had been rolling in paint, with her orange-painted tan that stuck out badly against her almost-white blond hair and her heavily clashing purple eye-shadow. I guess she would have been pretty if she wasn't in her sixties.

"Ah, yes, I'll have coffee please." Gordon glanced up, smiling politely, and I found her suddenly all the more ugly.

"Me too!" Emma called out from behind her menu, and, briefly, I wondered if giving her caffeine at this hour was a safe idea. Deciding we wouldn't sleep anyway, I smiled warmly at the decrepit woman.

"Naw, I'll just have some fuzz, pepsi or coke, whatever, I never liked coffee." I replied with a lazy shrug. She nodded her head, causing her _do_ to bobble annoyingly. Gordon's lips quirked upward.

"Coffee." He repeated and I raised my eyebrows, confused.

"Coffee?" I answered causing his grin to grow slightly, amusement dancing across his face. The sheer idea of him actually being there, let alone being Jim Gordon, made me stupidly giddy.

"_Coffee_." He inclined his head, staring at me with that grin and I blinked, confusion merging and eating the giddiness.

"Yeah, I said that." I offered lamely causing Emma to utter a snicker behind her menu. I glanced at the blaring bight menu and squinted.

"Not exactly."

"Coffee."

"No, _coffee_. You're saying _cawfee_."

I blinked at him, opening and closing my mouth a few times, as he grinned back, almost… _cheekily_. Huffing, I leaned my elbows against the table and leaned closer.

"Listen, Mr. Comic-Book-Guy, its _coffee_." Hoping to win the debate, I threw him a crooked grin as Emma released a soft '_ooh_,' in his direction. However, he merely leaned back, flipping his menu open idly, scanning the contents of it.

"That might have been the case, but as you can see, I am very much alive, thus proves your argument invalid, less you'd like to admit to being crazy." He paused briefly, tilting his head in consideration, his gaze lifting to meet mine. "Though, however, _technically_, you don't exist, like I don't exist in your—uh—reality, therefore you have absolutely no say whatsoever." A grin curved up on his lips. "It's coffee."

Stunned into silence, I found myself just staring at him, dumbstruck, wondering, vaguely, how to beat his reply. Goddamn. And as if on cue, which I wouldn't doubt at this point, Quasimodo's twin came lumbering back, holding two mugs and a glass in her hands. Miraculously.

"'Ere yeh go, kids." She grunted, setting each one down carelessly. Gordon raised his eyebrows upward at the word 'kids', opened his mouth, glanced at her, and closed it once more, mumbling an ever-so polite _thank you_. "I'll give yeh a few extra minutes tuh decide on what yeh'll want." And off she walked, winking at Gordon.

And he turned pink, looking baffled. He _actually_ turned pink! Biting the urge to giggle hysterically, I glanced at Emma, wondering if she saw the exchange, and was met with the horrid glare of the dirty blazing menu. Highly amused still, I turned back to Gordon, who was staring at me with his baffled blushing expression.

"Someone's a real _ladies_ man, huh?" I grinned. He scrunched up his face, readjusting his glasses.

"Hence the word _real_." He replied and I gawked at him, almost offended, as giggles threatened to seep from my slacking jaw.

Unsure which emotion to feel as they all exploded at once, I settled for sticking my tongue out. So there! I told him! How he switched this whole real-non real thing on me, I doubted I'd ever know. Emma's menu collided into the table with a violent _whoosh_, and she held her hands out in front of her, nodding her head to a soundless melody.

"I shall have the chicken-y tenders!" She announced, wiggling her fingers. "Just so I can pretend I'm eating the Penguin's pen—"

"No, I don't want to hear it!" Gordon cut in with a cry, raising his hands in panic, gawking at the girl besides me as I shook with laughter, burying my face into my arms on the table. "Good God!"

A pause filled the space and I lifted my head, glancing at Gordon, then to the mildly offended Emma.

"I think," Emma drawled quietly, smacking her lips together loudly. "That you need to stop being so _Sirius_."

I burst into a fit of laughter, grasping the glass of soda, sucking down the sugary liquid from the straw in attempts to calm myself down. Gordon blinked, his faintly amused orbs flickering from Emma then to me, an inquiring wonder emitting softly from her peering gaze. I marveled at how unused to I was at seeing unguarded simple innocent glances—my marveling only lasted a fraction of a second as the laughter engulfed me into hysteria.

"You need a new catch phrase." Gordon murmured over my hacking giggling, bringing the still steaming cup of coffee to his lips. Pausing he frowned. "Oh. I get it. Sirius, serious—I'm not Gary Oldman."

"Yeah, you've got more of a chin then he does." Emma agreed airily as I calmed myself down, still grinning widely, as I sipped the cold soda. "Look, your girlfriend is coming back!" She threw me a grin which I ignored, wondering if the irritation I felt was jealously. Damn fangirlism.

"I dare you to ask her 'why so serious'." I put in causally, trying to get rid of the nagging feeling clawing at my gut. Emma slammed her hand down on the table and I grasped the glass as it rattled, raising my eyebrows at her and her sudden violent nature.

"Double dog dare you!"

"_Triple _dog dare you." I added quickly sharing a grin with Emma as Gordon arched an eyebrow, looking slightly dejected.

"I refuse to take part in any quoting of things I shouldn't know about yet." He replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "Unless, of course, you say coffee correctly." His blue orbs gleamed mischievously, leaving me stunned for a moment. What did he just…

"_You_—"

"Actually, you're both saying it wrong. It's _coffee_." Emma sniffed, gazing down at her nails. I raised my eyebrows at her while Gordon snorted.

"She says cawfee, you say caff-_e_. It's cof-fee." Gordon sighed as the beast from hell loomed over us, with her god-awful perfume. I suspected that she took a bath in it. The stank slammed into me in waves and I recoiled, leaning closer to Emma.

"Yeh ready tuh order, kids?" She hacked up, her breathy voice sounding more congested by the moment. Emma leap up, kneeling on the cushioned seat as she leaned over me, grinning widely.

"The chicken tenders." She nearly sang and glanced at me with a knowing grin. "And a large plate of fries. What about you Jimbo?" She looked at him pointedly and he shifted, staring at his coffee.

"I'm fine, thank you." He murmured and she scoffed, sitting back down as the waitress tsked loudly.

"Yeh skin and bones gotta fatten yeh up. Have the pie." She patted him on the shoulder roughly, causing his glasses to slip down the bridge of his nose. Emma stifled a giggle as I bit on my lower lip, trying not to grin.

"No, really, I'm—"

"Dahll, it'll be on the 'ouse." She nodded and Emma punched the air with her fist.

"Pie!" She cheered as I sipped my drink, staring at her with raised eyebrows. What the hell was she talking about? She _hated_ pie! She ignored my confused glance, staring at Gordon like a hound.

"No, really, I don't need—" He stammered, attempting to push up his glasses.

"But yeh so skinny," the hag continued, now petting down his hair with her clawed hand, causing him to cringe visibly. I continued to drink, knowing I'd probably say something along the lines of 'GETAWAYFROMMYJIM'.

"Pie, pie, pie!" The girl besides me continued to chant as the petting grew harder, as if she were _willing_ him to take it.

"I—"

"It's apple…" the senior citizen drawled out shaking his shoulder like a child, baring her horribly yellow teeth. I think she was trying to smile.

"Oh my gosh, _apples_!"

"_Why_ are you being so serious?!" Gordon sputtered out, staring at the ancient woman.

Silence met his out cry. Emma then burst into laughter. Hysteria proceeded to slam into me and I choked on the drink, spraying the laughing Emma with it causing her to shriek and swat at me. Gordon flushed instantly and dropped his gaze, lifting his cup and taking a rather dignified sip. The creature pulled her hand back, blinking stupidly at him.

"So about those chicken tenders," I reminded, smiling sweetly at the baffled hag. She nodded and turned on her heels, leaving us to breathe from her sickly scent.

"That was _epic_." Emma sighed, looking wistful. "Wish it was on camera. That'd be something for youtube."

"Yeah, except nobody would _get_ it." Gordon snorted, shaking his head at her, and I briefly wondered if there was a youtube here. "…You haven't touched your coffee, why not?" He added softly, raising his eyebrows. Emma smiled widely at him.

"Well, I can't accept drinks from someone that doesn't know me, that's plain rude!" She replied, as thought it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I've yet to introduce myself."

"Ah. Well, you two just knew _me_… Odd now that I think about it." He paused, glanced at me briefly, smiled and shifted his gaze toward Emma leaving me to wonder why he grinned. "James Gordon."

"Emma Laine." She announced proudly, holding her arms out as if about to embrace the room. I stared at her, she grinned back, and I realized the two were now staring at me, expectantly. I wrinkled my nose, staring down at the rotten menu the hag forgot to take.

"Roxy…" I trailed off, shifting uncomfortably, my father's words inching across my mind. _Never let people know how much money you have, they'll shun you_.

"…Prescott." Emma finished for me and I made a face, sulking down in my seat. My last name just _screamed_ 'high class, look at me!' "Her first name is actually _Roxanne_."

"Roxanne?" Gordon echoed with a grin, amusement flickering across his face. "I don't suppose your parents thought that you'd be working the streets for money—_Oh_, no! Don't take that the wrong way, I didn't mean to imply—!" He panicked and I cut him off with a small laugh as Emma whistled lowly, muttering, 'ice for that burn!'

"Chillax, dude." I murmured softly, grinning. That was actually a first for me. Nobody has ever compared me to a whore. But I guess the crowed I used to hang around wouldn't dare utter something like that. "It's because of my red hair; I'm the only one in the family with it." I explained with a dismissive wave of my hand.

"Your shimmering scarlet locks that drift elegantly into your dove fair skin, dripping down like smooth silk across the right side of your _flawless_ face." Emma cooed clasping her hands together as she rubbed up against me. I scrunched my face up in mock disgust, a grin threatening to spill across my lips. Mary Sue-style, huh?

"And do I have brimming wide glassy pools of gleaming russet hues sparkled with emeralds?" I asked theatrically, grasping her hands with mine.

"Yes! They're just like poop!" Emma cried and I gasped, throwing the back of my hand over my forehead, as if to faint.

"Oh my! And what of my four perfectly placed freckles dotting around my nose—"

"Seven." Gordon cut in quietly drawing my attention to him. I blinked, staring at him, puzzled. He lifted his cup of coffee to his lips. "You have seven freckles." A sheepish grin formed. "It's my job to be observant." I flushed, despite myself.

"Counting freckles, though?" I questioned, trying to push down the giddy feeling. He merely shrugged a shoulder in response as Emma whispered 'stalker' loudly. The lady from hell was suddenly before us, and I guessed she had the ability to shoot up from the ground like a rodent.

"Penguin penis!" Emma shrieked loudly in my ear as she placed the blaring red plate onto the table. I winced and threw her a hurt look, rubbing my ear. She ignored me, grinning widely, making a grab for the plate.

I wiggled happily in my seat, happily pulling the warm plate of fries to me, ignoring my pounding ear drums. I loved fries! Nothing shall separate us, ever! Much to my delight she left without another word, and I half wondered if she spat in our food.

"I'm afraid to ask," I heard him murmur as I began to devour the fries. "Keep your Penguin feelings to yourself." He paused. "And drink your coffee."

"Emma doesn't like coffee." I replied absently, plucking up the deliciously warm and salty fry.

Gordon scowled to himself and took another sip of his drink. I glanced in Emma's direction, only to regret it. Watching her eat chicken tenders as sexually as she could wasn't exactly on my 'need to see' list. The conversation between us died. Gordon sipping his coffee, Emma sexing up the chicken, and me shoving down the fries like a starved child.

"You know," Emma murmured suddenly and I halted mid-bit, turning my head to look at her. Her gaze was locked on something else and I turned my head, spotting a lone man wearing a cowboy hat sitting at the counter, just a few stools down from our booth. "He's the only one in here besides us."

"Maybe he's hungry." I offered and she shifted her gaze in my direction.

"Maybe he's a _liooon_." She huffed, pushing the honey mustard onto my plate. I made a face and covered fries over it. "Or _maybe_ the food is poisoned, and that's why nobody else is in here. I mean one person! That's a little weird for a diner."

"It's currently two in the morning, so it's hardly odd." Gordon spoke up. "I come here often, he's usually sitting there. Same guy, I'm sure." He glanced in the guy's direction, and I wondered why I hadn't seen him before. Then I realized I often paid little attention to other people. Eh.

"I still think we'll be hacked up by the chef." Emma replied, playing with the salt shaker. "So, we gonna crash at your place or what?" Shock hit my gut and I dropped the fry, no longer hungry and annoyed at Emma for reminding me. I tossed her an annoyed look.

"Ah, no. Not exactly. My friend—Rachel, you know, her? Yes. Well," he adjusted his glasses and folded his hands in his business-like manner. "She sort of _owes_ me this favor, so…" he trailed off. "Not that I'm dumping you two onto her lap, she's very friendly, and well, I… I just…"

"Don't know how to explain it to the missus?" I offered lamely, cutting off his nervous rambling. He nodded, looking sheepish. "Well, we should get going then." He nodded again.

"Shotgun!" Emma shrieked and ducked under the table. I bristled instantly. No frickin fair!

"Hey!" I cried, outraged, as she crawled out from under the table. "Not far, you can only call shotgun when we're _near_ the car!" I scrambled to my feet, grasping her arm sending the two of us hurtling to the ground.

"I'll… just pay the bill, then…" Gordon mumbled and I could have sworn he muttered 'nonexistent freeloaders'. I was much too distracted with pinning Emma to be sure.

Emma wailed wiggling from my hold and scrambling to her feet, nearly knocking over the guy off of his stool. I leap to my own feet, uttered a quick apology and lunged after her, tackling her before she grasped the door, hurtling us once more to the ground with a painful thumb. Groaning, I sat up, rubbing my throbbing back. Emma was huddling her elbow to her chest, looking dejected, her hair now a complete horrid mess.

"You started it." I shrugged, ignoring the stinging that shot up with the slight movement. She stuck her tongue out at me and I made cutting motions with my fingers.

"Niiiigh_t_, ladahs." A gruff voice drawled almost cheerfully above us and I tilted my head upward, blinking in surprise to the lone cowboy guy.

He dipped his hat to us in mock greeting, his face shadowed completely by his hat. My gaze trailed down to his shirt, a happy looking animated giraffe smiling widely down at me, the words 'giraffe's are happy' laughing back at me. I raised my eyebrows. What an odd shirt.

"Night," I echoed as he skipped out of the diner. I glanced at Emma who shrugged, staggering her feet and offering me a hand. I took it and pulled myself up, glancing at Gordon who was now besides us. He grinned.

"Ready?"

**xx**

Right, so. I've had writers block. I PROMISED MYSELF I'D MAKE THIS SHORTER. Argh. I feel like I'm writing too much. Ah, well. Since this is probably gonna be a crack fic, why not introduce the Joker in that way? Yeah. 'Cause that's TOTALLY probable. Conveniently at a diner with them like that. Pffft! And since I like my Giraffe-reviewer so much, I'm gonna make him obsessed with giraffes. Yeah, I'm lame. But happily lame!


End file.
